


keep your head up, keep your heart strong

by Anonymous



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Drabble, Gen, M/M, charles is only briefly mentioned but hes a sweetheart, dany is like pierres wise older brother, this is just short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 09:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20871815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "...right now, in this tiny coffee shop where the two Toro Rosso drivers are the only patrons, he sees a little bit of himself reflecting in the Frenchman..."Or, the one where Pierre goes to Daniil for some wisdom.





	keep your head up, keep your heart strong

**Author's Note:**

> cue everyones groans when they see "coastcitytourism" on the site again lmao, but anyways im like always writing in my free time, not all fic of course but this site is probably only representative of like...25% of what i write so be glad yall dont have to read EVERYTHING i do.  
anyways...i didnt do chapter updates again, yes I am The Absolute Worst, but i got this silly little brainworm had to write it out. might be a repetitive disaster, or might not im not very good at writing dialogue. also dany might be wayyyyy ooc, i barely ever even get to read anything with him in it but yknow i couldnt escape this thought this time.  
title is from "keep your head up" by ben howard!  
please do not copy or share this elsewhere, it is (like everything else ive published on here) a work of fiction!  
also also...special shoutout to drifter_dreamer and Sammy, literally everytime you guys leave comments it makes me smile all stupid, i love u guys <3

"So what is it that you wanted to talk about?" Daniil asks flatly, blowing ripples into the teacup sitting on the table in front of him in a futile attempt to cool it down.

Pierre inhales deeply, forces a polite smile onto his face as his brain wracks itself looking for the right questions to ask. He sets his own cup of coffee down against the table next to an untouched pastry that's growing colder with every passing moment. Blue eyes flick up to something above and behind Dany, and Pierre remains focused on an intangible object in the distance even as he starts to speak.

"I just...how did you handle it?" Pierre pauses, looks back at Dany and flicks his hair out of his face with a nervous twitch of his wrist, "The team switch, I mean. How did you get through it?"

The Frenchman feels his face warm up, and he can't even remember the last time he felt this insecure and naive. He's the one who proposed this, their meeting in a nondescript coffee shop outside Milton Keynes after their last day in the sim, and now he can't even form the right words to ask. 

However, Dany doesn't seem to notice Pierre's self-conciousness, but his expression softens, and he looks at the younger man with something similar to pity. 

"Pierre," Daniil starts, takes a sip of his tea and lets the beverage warm his throat, sighs deeply before finishing the sentence, "It's not easy. I'm not going to lie to you." And he can't, because right now, in this tiny coffee shop where the two Toro Rosso drivers are the only patrons, he sees a little bit of himself reflecting in the Frenchman, unabashed hope and terror filling in every crack at the same time. 

Pierre inhales a shaky breath and stares down at his coffee, mindlessly swirling a teaspoon in the murky depths of his mug. What Dany has said is nothing that he doesn't already know, but it doesn't ease the sinking feeling of his heart.

"But it does get easier," the Russian says and reaches across the table to give Pierre a gentle squeeze to the wrist.

"Not being Red Bull at first, it's scary," he continues, and Pierre looks up, gazes at him intently, "not knowing what's going to happen to your seat, whether you're going to stay or not, it's terrifying. But at the end of the day, the world keeps going whether you're ready for it to or not."

Pierre nods, his face falling neutral as he soaks in Daniil's wisdom. The Russian is only a few years older than him, but he speaks with the words of someone who has seen so much more of this life.

"The world doesn't only revolve around Red Bull, though," Dany says quietly, looking out to the wet pavement surrounding the building and taking in the way the street lights reflect off of it, even in the gloomy daylight, "At the end of the day, there are other paths to go down. It doesn't have to be the end of the story."

Pierre smiles softly at Dany, admiring the older man's composure and relentless perseverence even in the face of the wild unknown. He can only wish to have half the mental strength Dany has.

"Yeah," Pierre virtually whispers, his voice falling soft, "did you enjoy working for Ferrari? Did they help you?"

Dany smiles and leans back in his chair, chuckling quietly, and Pierre can't quite figure out why until Dany says "I'm sure Charles has told you all about it." The Frenchman feels his face turn pink once more, but Daniil just laughs it off.

"But yeah. I did enjoy it. The pressure they put on you at Red Bull..." he trails off, thinking of his next sentence, "it's just, not there in Ferrari. They want you to succeed, but they don't want to tear you down to do it."

"That sounds...nice," Pierre says earnestly, because it does. He's tired of feeling like he's disappointing everyone. Sometimes he felt like he was losing himself under the burden that he was forced to carry for Red Bull. The weight on his chest has lessened since returning to Toro Rosso but still chokes him up sometimes when he's having a bad day.

"It is," Daniil says, his voice equally as honest, "but, Pierre...it's okay to take a break too. It's okay to not know what to do."

It startles Pierre, hearing Dany say these things, he's always figured that everyone in the sport knows what to do all the time, but Dany is looking at him with such seriousness that he knows it's not a joke or an offhanded comment. He feels the urge to speak but when he tries his throat denies the action, feeling dry and cracked like a sun beaten desert. Before he can try to find his voice again, the Russian is spilling words of wisdom once more. Pierre's not sure he's ever heard Dany speak this much outside of interviews and PR events, ever.

"I'm serious. We all grew up so fast, we all started doing this so young," he gestures mildly, "we've worked our entire lives for this, so it's hard, but it's alright to not know, to stray from the course and go your own way..."

Pierre swallows the lump in his throat, bites his lip and looks to the ceiling and tries to hide from Daniil that his eyes have grown glassy from his words, but to no avail- Dany reaches over and offers Pierre a comforting pat on the hand. 

"It's going to be okay, Pierre," he says gently, and he can say it because he's lived it, "You're young and talented and you've got people here to support you. All of us on the team, your family and friends back in France...and I know of a certain guy in red who would do almost anything for you."

Dany is right, of course. Even after Pierre got that fateful call from Helmut Marko, felt like his entire life was being ripped from the walls of it's confines like aging wallpaper, everyone back in Faenza had once again welcomed him with their trademark enthusiasm and open arms. His family still reassured that they were ceaselessly proud of all of his accomplishments. And Charles...Charles had held him close in their hotel room that evening, ordered them a pizza and a bottle of wine for dinner when Pierre felt too distraught to go out, and promised him that he would help Pierre find a way, no matter what happened.

"Yeah," Pierre finally breathes, finally responds to Daniil's sage wisdom, "Yeah, you're right. Thank you, Dany. I needed this."

Daniil glances at the Frenchman and smiles reassuringly. 

"Any time, Pierre. Believe me, you're not alone." The Russian glances down at his phone, checks the time and realizes that if he doesn't leave soon he's going to miss his flight back home to Monaco. He stands and urges the Frenchman across the table to stand too, gives his teammate a hearty hug and a clap on the back and begins to rush out of the door.

The door bells jingle once, but then once again as Dany peeks his head back into the shop.

"Oh, and Pierre? Don't ever give up," he calls behind before escaping back out into the gloomy English air.

Pierre smiles and waves Dany on, feels his phone buzz and unlocks it to check the message.

**From Charles: they havent stopped lecturing me and seb since we got here, its getting boring. how is MK? cant wait to be home with you again tomorrow <3**

Dany's last phrase bounces around in Pierre's brain, and he smiles to himself, repeats it silently like a mantra.

_I won't ever give up._

**Author's Note:**

> wow i love you guys for reading my shit always, thanks in advance for any feedback!  
in addition ive made a tumblr, i have literally nothing on it not even a theme or a profile pic yet but expect that to be attached to anything i write in the future once i get it sorted!


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